


Football and Blanket Forts

by agentx13



Category: Captain America (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Cold Showers, F/M, Snowed In, sharon carter month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentx13/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: Sharon and Steve take a vacation to a winter cabin, content with the possibility of being snowed in so they can relax and catch up on football games while other people save the world. Naturally, that isn't all they do.
Relationships: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: Sharon Carter Month





	Football and Blanket Forts

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jackie for suggesting the snowed in prompt!

Steve paced across the cabin. On an invisible, parallel track, Sharon did the same. They passed each other after each turn, instinctively maneuvering around each other without having to look. Outside the small cabin, snow flurries fell, but the forecast predicted they would soon turn into a blizzard. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve said into his phone. “We can hunker down here until it clears up. We’ve got everything we need.”

“No, do _not_ send a helicopter,” Sharon told the person on the other end of her phone. “It’s a waste of resources. Steve and I have both camped out in similar conditions. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure others can handle anything that comes up while I’m gone,” Steve said.

“Use the rescue equipment to rescue people who actually need help,” Sharon said. “Don’t waste resources on us.”

“You don’t need me to handle anything. I have total confidence you can handle anything that comes your way.”

“You’ve got this. Don’t worry so much.”

Steve hung up. So did Sharon. They looked at each other. Then high-fived.

Sharon hopped to one of her bags and pulled out a hard drive. “Know how you’ve been saying you wanted to catch up on sports? I’ve been recording all the games you’ve been missing.”

“I take it some of your games are on there, too?”

Sharon held the hard drive closer to her chest. “Maaaaaaybe.” She headed to the television to get it set up. “What do you want to do first?”

“Hmm… At least three days with no one but the two of us while others handle all the emergencies that come up so we don’t have to?” He set a heavy hand on the hard drive to stop her from finishing the set up and turned to look at her. “I can think of some things.”

Her grin was slow but no less luminous. “We’re going to need firewood.”

He shrugged. “I’ll have time before dark.” He bent and scooped her up. “In theory.”

* * *

She flopped over to the side and panted. Outside, the wind howled. “You’re not going to have time to get firewood if you keep it up.”

His eyes flicked toward the window. “Since when was it my job to get firewood?”

“When you offered earlier. I distinctly remember an ‘I’ll have time before dark.’”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Steve mused, tucking a hand under his head. The other found a way to toy with her hair despite the odd angle. “I don’t like the cold.”

“Is that your way of asking me to get firewood instead?”

“It’s my way of asking you to stay in bed and help me stay warm.”

She passed him a corner of the blanket they were currently lying on.

“Mm. This is warmer,” he said, rolling over onto her.

She grunted as his weight buried her in the mattress. “This is why I top,” she laughed, trying to shove him upwards.

“At least three days, Sharon. I’m sure you’ll get another chance.” He bent his head and kissed one of her scars, then another, and another. She didn’t have the healing abilities he did, and contrary to becoming self-conscious about her scars, he’d found a way to utilize them in a way she couldn’t regret.

She brushed her fingers along his waist, her eyes drifting shut. “So when we were talking about a vacation, you were thinking a marathon sexcapade.”

He chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her breast. “Don’t forget that I saw what you packed.”

She grinned, but it wasn’t as innocent as she might have liked.

“What was that?” he asked.

“That was ‘no comment.’”

“Mm-hmm.” He tilted his head, and she gasped.

“I don’t have a scar there,” she murmured.

He pressed his warm palm to her breast, then moved it just enough to let his fingers skirt over her skin. “Don’t you? I’ll have to do a closer investigation.” He blinked up. “And it’s getting kind of dark in here…”

She nodded slowly. “It is, isn’t it.”

“It is.”

She carded her fingers through his hair. “So… how are you going to do such a close investigation?”

He looked at her. They both knew he wasn’t good at innuendo.

But he’d always been more of a man of action.

* * *

She woke late the next morning to find the bed empty. Wrapping the blanket around her, she stumbled to the outer room, where the kitchen was distinguishable from the dining room only by a tall table and mismatched chairs, and from the living room only by a couch facing the television. Steve, clad in a thick sweater and pajama bottoms, stood at the stove, and there was a fire crackling to life in the fireplace. Outside the window, thick snow fell. They definitely weren’t getting off the mountain today.

She walked up behind him and softly collided with his back.

“Breakfast?” he asked brightly.

He always was the morning person out of the two of them.

She looked at him blearily. “How much coffee did we bring?”

He laughed at her lack of enthusiasm. “Check the bags.”

She grumbled on her way to the table where they’d stacked their gear when they’d first arrived and nearly collapsed in gratitude at the sight of a large tin of coffee grounds. Wait! She fumbled to get it open while also keeping the blanket closed. The most important thing was not to drop it. She couldn’t stay awake on the scent of coffee grounds alone.

Victorious, she peeled back the lid and nearly cried in happiness at the sight of the full tin.

Not wanting to get in between her and her coffee, Steve set the coffee maker far away from himself and backed away slowly. “I get some, right?”

“Sure, sure,” she said, but her tone made no promises. She set about making the coffee, ignoring him.

“I _am_ making pancakes.”

She grunted.

“For both of us.”

She sighed contentedly as coffee began to pour into the pot.

Steve sighed for other reasons and flipped the pancakes.

Sharon was on her second cup before she made one for him.

“ _Thank_ you,” he said, shoving a plate of pancakes toward her.

She yawned and carried them to the table. With one hand keeping the blanket around her, it took several more trips to get the butter, syrup, and silverware with her free hand.

“You _could_ lose the blanket,” he suggested, too innocently.

She squirmed deeper inside. “It’s still too cold for that. What do you want to do today?”

He looked at her.

“What _else_ do you want to do today?”

They wound up on the couch, cuddled tight together, watching football games. Then they stopped paying attention to the television and wound up on the floor.

* * *

Sharon turned the nozzle. The steam between them was dissipating, and both of them were pressed against opposite sides of the shower stall, out of the spray of suddenly-cold water. She impatiently shoved a wet strand of hair out of her face. “I think we-”

“No,” Steve said.

“Steve.” She turned the nozzle again.

“We need hot water, Sharon.”

“I _know_.” She quickly shut the water off altogether, and the two of them stood in the ridiculously small shower, shivering. “I think we killed it.”

He grumbled, and she grinned.

“ _Now_ who’s grumpy?” she teased when he looked at her.

He frowned. “You. Bed.”

She laughed. “We’d better get more blankets.”

“And have a game plan for tomorrow’s shower.”

Sharon stepped out and grabbed a towel, tossing the other to Steve. She looked around, trying to put her finger on what was different, then frowned. “I think the power went out.”

Steve grumbled some more.

“No television,” Sharon said. “Whatever shall we do?”

* * *

They slept in front of the fireplace underneath a pile of blankets.

“I have no regrets,” Sharon said stubbornly. “It’s incredibly hard to get trapped in the tropics.”

Steve held her closer. “Let’s try harder for the tropics next time.”

“Or maybe just not tell anyone where we’re going,” she said, her voice dreamily. “Leave our phones behind. Get burners if we need them.” After some maneuvering, she rested on top of him. “Better?”

“Move around some more and I’ll let you know.”

She grinned and ducked under the blankets. Seconds later, Steve gave a start and made a strangled sound.

“Better,” he said quickly. “Better. But, um. I think I can get better still…”

Not that Sharon needed the encouragement.

* * *

The third day was more serious. They woke early, and Sharon focused her usual morning attitude into grim determination, dressing in layers. He opened the door and sighed at the sight of the four feet of snow blocking their way.

“You can toss me over it,” she offered. “And I’ll get firewood.”

He grumbled and fought his way out, reaching a hand back to pull her out behind him.

They took several trips to bring in as much firewood as possible, then set up the kitchenware to heat up water for coffee.

“I can make a stew,” Sharon suggested.

“Don’t be hasty. I could always freeze first.”

She made a face at him. “Are you saying I’m a bad cook?”

“You’re a fantastic dish washer.”

She cradled her coffee. “You’re lucky I know I’m a bad cook.”

“And that you’re a fantastic dish washer.”

“Very true.” She sipped her coffee and leaned against him. “I brought a flashlight, just in case. And I’ll scrounge around for some candles.”

He wrapped an arm around her. “Sorry we didn’t get to watch your games.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to watch _your_ games.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine without.”

She twisted to look up at him. “Wait. Did you not want to watch them?”

“ _You_ wanted to watch them, so I wanted you to watch them.”

She stared at him.

After a moment, he stared back.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“Neither of us- You aren’t into football?”

“I mean, I _can_ watch it, but I don’t really seek it out…”

Sharon carefully set her coffee aside, carefully snuggled up to him again – for body heat, of course – and laughed. “So each of us has been pretending to be into football for the sake of the other?”

“Seems like it.”

“A bit ‘Gift of the Magi,’ isn’t it?”

“You still have your hair,” he pointed out.

“You have your watch?”

He grinned. “My phone,” he admitted. “The modern watch.”

“So… yesterday… When I thought I’d distracted you a little too easily, it wasn’t because you’d already seen the game.”

He smiled to himself. “No. That wasn’t why.”

She looked up at him and craned her neck to kiss him.

He kissed her back, but when he pulled away, he shook his head. “It’s too cold for more, you know. You’re distracting, but not forever.”

“Maybe it would help warm things up if we made a blanket fort?”

He paused, then turned to survey the room for building materials. “It could be worth it,” he mused.

It was, as it turned out.

* * *

The fourth day, the mountain was still impassable. They only left their blanket fort when they had to. Not that they complained. They’d made a very good, very comfortable blanket fort.

* * *

On the fifth day, there was a knock at the door. Steve and Sharon looked at each other, neither of them dressed, and Sharon grabbed the nearest piece of clothing she could find and pulled it over her head. “I’ll get it,” she said at the same time he did.

She, however, was faster. It should have surprised her. She should have turned to make sure everything was okay. But the knock at the door might have been a chance to return to civilization and electricity and a hot shower. Their marathon sexcapade was nice, but there was something to be said for a hot shower.

“Hi,” Natasha said brightly. She took in Sharon wearing Steve’s oversized sweater – large even for him – and Sharon’s bare legs. She also took in the blanket fort over Sharon’s shoulder. “I see you’ve been managing.”

“We have been. Are you here to rescue us?”

“Do you need rescuing?” Natasha asked, too innocently.

“We wouldn’t mind a hot shower,” Sharon confirmed.

Steve’s voice came from the blankets. “Has everyone else been evacuated?”

“Yep,” Natasha said, sounding amused. “You know, if you two had told me you were doing this, I’d have gotten you some stuff.”

“We just came for a vacation,” Sharon explained. “To relax. You know.”

“I know,” Natasha confirmed with a smile that, like her voice, was too innocent. “Why don’t you two get… packed up, and I’ll wait in the car.”

“Thanks,” Sharon said, closing the door on her with no further invitation. She turned, her hand stroking the sweater. “I might keep this.”

“You don’t want yours back,” Steve said, standing. He’d tugged her sweater on; it hadn’t made it all the way before it ripped. He’d gotten his head through, and part of one arm, evidently stopping when he noticed it ripping. “Help me out of this before Nat sees, would you? I’ll never live it down.”

* * *

She fell on top of him and sighed. “Hot showers are divine. Don’t tell Thor who has the real holy power around here.”

He grinned and toyed with a lock of her hair. “The only things around here with holy power are hot showers, huh?”

She groaned, her face falling to his chest. “We’ve had _so_ much sex this week.”

“And?”

She considered. “You make a compelling argument.”

He laughed and tugged her closer for a kiss. “It’s okay. We’ll turn our phones off.”

“Get burners.”

“Go to the tropics.”

“Or just _say_ we’ve gone to the tropics.”

“And stay there,” he said, nodding.

She grinned. “A very compelling argumen-” The rest of her thoughts dissolved as the argument became more sensual. Not that she would ever complain. “Touchdown,” she exhaled, and Steve laughed, his breath hot against her skin.

“Actually, that’s just kickoff.”


End file.
